


Shelter

by RedTeamShark



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Animal Shelter, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Prompted Work, Trans Male Character, canon typical language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 02:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: The animals shelter is calledFriends on Foursand really, York goes in as much for the alliteration as the sudden, overwhelming urge to get a kitten that he’d woken up with that morning.





	Shelter

The animals shelter is called _Friends on Fours_ and really, York goes in as much for the alliteration as the sudden, overwhelming urge to get a kitten that he’d woken up with that morning. 

A five minute conversation later, he’s in the cat room, sitting quietly on the floor as various cats run and play around him. One kitten headbutts his shin lightly before mewling, trying to climb the leg of his jeans with its small claws. Moving slowly and carefully, not wanting to scare the little gray and white fluffball away, York picks it up, sets it on his leg and lets it crawl over him.

“They can smell kindness, y’know,” a voice speaks up behind him and York lets out a squeak, hand instinctively going to catch the kitten as he jumps. He turns, seeing someone standing nearby, holding an animal carrier with a hissing, spitting, swiping mess of claws and teeth and fur inside. “I think that’s why they hate me.”

“You’re not kind?”

The stranger grins, leaning down and looking into his face, holding the carrier a prudent distance away from both of them. “Nope. Name’s Felix, I’m the cat bather.”

“Ah. No wonder you’re dealing with the claws and teeth.” York smiles, carefully setting the kitten on the ground and standing up. It goes for his shoe laces, tiny claws out as it works to untie his shoes.

“Well, it’s better than having another series of flea infestations… Those were such a pain in the ass. So, do I get to know your name, or do I get to make one up?” Felix offers the hand not currently at risk of being shredded, his smile charming.

“I–” Fuck, he always gets nervous around cute people. Always. And when he’s nervous his voice starts cracking, all the vocal training he’d done flying out the window. York clears his throat, shifting on his feet and quickly shaking Felix’s hand. “I’m York.”

“Huh. That kitten really likes you, y’know.” The claws and teeth have finally slowed down to just low growls and Felix sets the carrier down, carefully opens it up. The cat inside bolts across the room, jumps into one of the cages lining the wall and curls up in the back. “Yeah, yeah, Franklin. You’ll be purring when Katie brings you your supper tonight.”

“Franklin?” Briefly leaning down, York picks up the kitten that has managed to untie his shoelace and holds it to his chest. Almost immediately it nuzzles into his hoodie, purring in content.

“I don’t name the damn cats.”

“So who’s this little guy that’s taken such a liking to me?”

Felix frowns, looking from the kitten to the cages around the room, one finger held up as he thinks on it. Finally, he nods, turning back to York. “That… is Smittens. Like I said, I don’t name them.”

“Smittens?” York looks down at the cat, frowning. Smittens. Like Mittens, but starting with an S. “Doesn’t even have the white paws.”

“Yeah, I know. But there’s a pre-school across the street and our director brings pictures of any unnamed cats over there and lets one of the classes name them. So when you have a bunch of four-year-olds naming cats…” Felix sighs, “you get names like Smittens and Peanut Butter.”

“Peanut Butter,” York repeats, trying not to laugh. “Please, introduce me to Peanut Butter.”

“He got adopted last week. Actually, by the kid that named him. But god, he was an _asshole_. Well, except to that kid. Cats are weird.” Felix shrugs it off, reaching forward and patting Smittens on the head lightly. “You thinking of taking him home?”

“I’m thinking that I don’t have a choice…” York looks down at the kitten, then back up at Felix. Go for it. Take the plunge. He’s nice, he’s friendly, casual conversation is great. Just don’t say something– “I could take you home, too.” –obnoxious.

“What?”

“What?”

They stare at each other for a moment, before Felix laughs. Gentle, not the harsh rebuking laughter that York almost expected. “How about for coffee first? After you get Smittens all settled, that is.”

“Right. Coffee. Sounds good. I better go, uh. Adopt. My new kitten. Yeah, that.” York hurries from the room with the kitten, his face burning hot. But he’s grinning.

And when Felix’s phone number is included in the paperwork that he brings home with Smittens–paperwork and about thirty pounds of new equipment–he grins even bigger.

Sometimes waking up with a whim for one thing can lead to doing something else on a whim, and when both work out… Well…

York will call it a whim-win.


End file.
